


fall to your knees

by lumosflowers (mariusette)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-26
Updated: 2016-07-26
Packaged: 2018-07-26 20:52:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7589716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariusette/pseuds/lumosflowers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>hp!au. There is no way in fresh hell he’s going to put his mouth anywhere near Baekhyun’s disgusting feet. He’s got more pride than that. And, in a choice between kissing Baekhyun’s gross feet and kissing Kim Junmyeon, the latter will always sound better in any situation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	fall to your knees

**Author's Note:**

> originally written for exolliarmus' 2015 round and reposted from [here](http://hp-exolliarmus.livejournal.com/11193.html)
> 
> i'm finally getting around to updating and reposting all my old stuff oh boy

Like usual, Kyungsoo had warned them against it. ( _“Stupid,”_ he’d said, _“It will never work.”_ ). And, like usual, they hadn’t listened. ( _“Will too,”_ Baekhyun had snapped back, rising to a challenge that hadn’t been wagered. _“It’s so foolproof I could do it with my eyes closed.”_ ).

So, when the rockets backfire in Chanyeol’s hands and Jongdae ends up stumbling out of the boy’s bathroom, coughing and spluttering and surrounded by smoke, and right into the arms of the head-boy, he supposes that this is the punishment he deserves for not listening to the only source of wisdom among them. 

“Jongdae,” Junmyeon doesn’t look displeased so much as exasperated. It’s at least the fourth or fifth time this month. Maybe more, who knows. “Of course. Where are the other two?”

They’d rehearsed this. With a track record like theirs, they’d be fools not to. _”All for one, one for all,”_ Chanyeol had said once. Picked it up from a muggle movie. Jongdae knows the phrase doesn’t mean copping the fall on behalf of your dimwit friends, but it still works. 

He’s got his excuses lined up and he’s ready to take said fall, until Junmyeon raises one perfect eyebrow and cocks his head slightly, impatient, and his words vanish. Junmyeon is the one perfect flaw in their otherwise perfect plan and, like usual, Jongdae has fallen for it hook, like and sinker. 

Blank, Jongdae pulls on what he hopes is a convincing smile, “Uh, they’re… asleep?”

“Really?” Junmyeon asks, eyes darting to the fog behind them. Still smiling, Jongdae sidesteps in an attempt to obscure it. “You don’t sound so sure.”

“Uh, well,” This lost for words thing is definitely a habit that he really isn’t fond of. “Baekhyun has an early training and, well, you know Chanyeol. He’s probably part giant, so he, like, hibernates each night.”

“It’s the middle of the day.”

“…It’s a very, very early training! Top secret, super—“

Suddenly, a rocket goes off behind him, and Baekhyun’s shrill, surprised yell startles them both. Junmyeon takes one look at the smoke behind him, at Chanyeol wheezing and stumbling through the fog towards them, laughing while Baekhyun yells expletives, before his gaze slides back to Jongdae, unimpressed. There’s also something akin to disappointment pulling at the corner of his perfect lips, and Jongdae feels something tug in his chest.

“Uh,” Jongdae, heart pounding and lost for words, smiles sheepishly, “Has anyone told you how nice you look today?”

 

 

“This is all your fault,” Baekhyun hisses at him later, furiously polishing a candelabra branch. “You and your big fucking mouth, Kim Jongdae, I swear to god. I don’t know why we put you on lookout when your one weakness is bloody Kim Junmyeon. You know I have a game next week and—“

“Shut up,” Jongdae says, cutting him off as he huffs at a particular spot on his own candelabra, “We’re lucky that we just ended up polishing these fucking things instead of roaming through the forest freezing our asses off in the dark. Besides,” he continues, “If you _knew_ you had a game next week, why did you do it anyway?”

His best friend sniffs, indignant, “Kyungsoo said it wouldn’t work.”

“Well, it didn’t work.”

“Not my fault!” Baekhyun protests. “This is all on you.”

“Me? Why? Why just me?” Jongdae feels attacked. He was just the watchman. He wasn’t the one who blew up a toilet. He nods towards Chanyeol, a few meters down, who is doing surprisingly well at getting the dirt out despite having such large hands. “What about him? He planned this.”

“Hey,” Chanyeol protests, deep voice thrumming through the quiet, “It was a good idea. I thought the whole thing though and those fireworks? Top notch. _Pristine_. They don’t call me Park Rocket for nothing.”

Jongdae barks a laugh and rounds on him incredulously, “Really? _Really_ Park Rocket?”

“Park Chanyeol, you’re full of shit,” Baekhyun adds, scoffing.

“ _Shh!_ ” The teacher at the end of the hall, Professor Kwon, chides them loudly. Baekhyun pulls a face and goes back to polishing.

“Anyway,” Chanyeol quietly continues after the professor’s turned away, shaking his cloth at Jongdae accusingly. “ _You’re_ the one who messed up. So the lookout plans got messed up, so what? But rule number one, Jongdae. Rule number one! All for one—“

“One for all, yeah, yeah, I know,” echoes Jongdae, rolling his eyes. “Look, so I zoned out and missed the call—“

“And got us all landed in _detention_ because you went all gooey gooey for a snake.”

“I—“ he scoffs, “I didn’t flake out, alright? I just— he surprised me and I got a little tongue tied is all.”

“But it’s not the first time it’s happened,” Baekhyun hisses at him. “That we’re here _suffering_ because you are so heart eyes for him but won’t do shit about it!” 

“Next time, man,” Chanyeol suggests, turning to him. “Instead of standing there gaping, how about you put that mouth to good use and kiss him! It’s genius, yeah? At least that way, we’ll have a good chance at a distraction _and_ you get some. Perfect, right?”

“Exactly! Chanyeol is right,” Baekhyun whispers excitedly. The candle light makes his expression look almost sinister, and Jongdae knows nothing good can come from this. “You’ve been in love with him for, what, three years? And you haven’t done a thing about it. Maybe this is the way do it.”

“What?” Jongdae hisses, sparing a brief, cautionary glance at the professor, before turning back to his friends. “Kissing him as a getaway plan? You’re an idiot. You’re both idiots. That’s not romantic _or_ a confession. If I’m gonna do it, I’m gonna do it right.” When neither of them look convinced, he reiterates, pitch jumping higher, “I am!”

Baekhyun scoffs and leans closer, clearing his throat, “Oh, my, Junmyeon-hyung, I didn’t see you there. What a nice face you have. Such nice muscles too. Do you work out?” In the darkness, Jongdae can feel his face burning as Baekhyun twists the words he’d said offhandedly days ago. As he leans over to smack his friend, Baekhyun cackles and continues, “Your chest is so solid and fit, may I touch it? Also, touch _me_ —oh, _oh_ —“

“ _Mister Byun_ ,” Professor Kwon scolds, her sharp voice cutting Baekhyun off before he can get any further. She looks between them, annoyed. “Is there an issue here, gentlemen?”

“No.”

“No, professor.”

“Then get back to work.”

“…You know,” Baekhyun conspiratorially whispers to him a few minutes later when the professor’s turned away again, “I doubt he’d mind either. No Fun Junmyeon probably wears double denim and reads obituaries for fun. You, my friend, would blow his _mind_. And maybe even something else, too. So how about it? For us?”

“I’m not going to suck his dick for the sake of a prank—“

“But you’d suck his dick though.”

“I—no—“ Jongdae flushes, clearing his throat. He’s not going to think about kissing Junmyeon, least of all when Baekhyun and Chanyeol are backing him into a corner like this. It’s not just about the sex. It’s not. But it’s not like he catches himself thinking about the head-boy—his soft smile and the curve of his lips and how soft they’d be, about the feeling of his small hands against his palms, through his hair, between his legs— “Shut up.” 

“Look man, point is, when are you going to do something about it? Every time you see him you go wide eyed and gape at him like a fucking fish or something,” Baekhyun whispers to him, leaning in close. “If you wanna fuck the head-boy that badly, you need to let him know—“

“He’s more than just that, okay?” Jongdae cracks suddenly, sighing and looking between his friends. Baekhyun rolls his eyes, mumbling something along the lines of _here we go again_ turns back to his candle branch. “I know you have no problem with hooking up with people randomly—“

“ _Hey_ —“

“But I really like Junmyeon and I—I don’t just want to sleep with him. I would actually want to _be with_ be with him. Like, y’know,” Jongdae clears his throat as his cheeks heat up. His voice drops even quieter, “Hold his hand and stuff.”

“Ugh, gross,” Baekhyun scrunches his face up, “That’s so… _vanilla_. You’re in so fucking deep. He’s rubbing off on you.”

“Well, as far as we know,” Chanyeol states more helpfully, “Junmyeon hasn’t dated anyone for a while and neither have you, so you honestly have as good a chance as any. Do you know how you solve that? You _talk_ to him.”

“Yeah,” Baekhyun nods, looking back at Jongdae pointedly, “If you love him so much, do us all a favor and just confess already.” 

 

 

To say Jongdae fell head over heels for Junmyeon would be entirely incorrect. In truth, it was Junmyeon who fell up the stairs and into Jongdae, who then, while nursing a broken arm and a concussion, had discovered what fate was.

It was some sort of blessing in disguise, smacking his head against the bannister of the Grand Staircase and waking up in the infirmary three hours later to the man of his dreams sitting at his bedside.

The whole thing might have been a dizzy fever dream, but waking up to sixteen-year-old Kim Junmyeon, watching him and chewing through his nails with worry, was certainly one of the highlights of the year.

From then on, he frequently crossed paths with Junmyeon in the halls and, each time, the boy went out of his way to check on him again and again, making sure his head was still in one piece and apologizing, once again, even though the incident ( _”Murder attempt,”_ according to Baekhyun) had happened months ago. Jongdae had almost come to expect running into him, looking forward to it even. Looking forward to the small smiles and happy laughs and, eventually, the frequent greetings and small talk.

However, he did not expect it when newly elected Slytherin prefect Junmyeon entered the library to find him skulking around, planting rockets in the ancient studies section because _”ha-ha, history is a blast!”_

Junmyeon being prefect, in addition to two of his three closest friends being the biggest mischief makers in the entire school, turned out to be the bane of his existence. Chance meetings in the halls turned into chance meetings at the scene of the crime with a side of detention. It meant marks on his perfect record and house points down the drain but he’d take it. Junmyeon was busy with studying for NEWTs and prefect business so there was never any time to talk, except when he was deducting points. 

He’d tried to put his feelings aside, to let them drop because obviously nothing good could come from Junmyeon only ever being disappointed in him, but they refused to wane. Junmyeon was awkward and cheesy but cute and lovely and still smiled at him even though he’d set more rockets than he’d care to admit. Junmyeon was perfect and whatever he felt refused to leave any time soon.

They’d hit full force when, come Christmas break, he’d been left alone at Hogwarts while his parents vacationed in Peru, only to find that Junmyeon had stayed behind as well, feigning a non-lethal case of vanishing sickness because he hadn’t wanted to face his grandmother.

It was over hot chocolates and late night chats by the fire during the December snow storms that Jongdae had fallen in love with the awkward but cute Slytherin prefect, listening to him tell stories of foreign magical sites and ancient studies in return for tales of muggle magic and tricks and customs. There was a light in his eyes as he listened and asked question after question that Jongdae realized he would trade anything for.

It’s been two years—two years of smiles and waves and acknowledging nods, of Junmyeon getting busier and busier, and of his friends, particularly Baekhyun, getting more and more fed up with his pining—and he’s done nothing but gape and stutter and put his foot in his mouth. He could leave it. He could drop it and write it off as a high school love. Junmyeon is graduating at the end of the year and it could be it. 

He could leave it behind but he won’t. It isn’t that he hasn’t desperately wanted to, there just hasn’t been a right moment. It has to be done right.

 

 

Jongdae spends the rest of the week channeling his efforts into some sort of confession plan. Baekhyun may be full of shit but Jongdae has to admit that he’s probably right about this. He’s been messing around too long and god knows everything would be easier, both mentally and emotionally, if he got it out and into the clear. Junmyeon is graduating at the end of the school year and he doesn’t have time to mess about. He doesn’t have Baekhyun’s impulsive drive to just wing something as important as this, nor does he have Chanyeol’s impenetrable confidence or sheer dumb luck that caused his disastrous fourth year confession to Choi Jinri to work so well, even after falling into a bush, so planning it is.

He narrows it down to a straight out confession or a cheesy pick up line, because he knows Junmyeon’s sense of humor is tacky and lame and it should work. But, come Thursday, he fails to deliver.

He runs into Junmyeon in the library after Baekhyun kicks him out of the common room for getting in the way of important quidditch stuff. He’s swinging on his chair when he spots the head-boy, and nearly tips backwards at the sight of a pair of glasses perched on the tip of his cute nose. He catches himself with a very loud, very obvious clatter and, realizing Junmyeon had seen him, laughs sheepishly before scuttling out and looking for the nearest window to jump out of. Only once he gets back to the common room, face burning and heart pounding, does he realize Junmyeon had been alone and he’d missed what might have been the perfect chance.

Baekhyun and Chanyeol laugh in his face when he finds out, and laugh harder again at his pick up line suggestions. ( _”Slither in?”_ Baekhyun had cackled incredulously. _”Even I wouldn’t use these,”_ snorted Chanyeol.)

The next time Jongdae sees Junmyeon is in Hogsmeade on Saturday morning. Junmyeon is flushed and gorgeous when he walks into the Three Broomsticks with his Slytherin friends, wrapped in two thick scarves and a heavy coat, and his usual brown hair now a striking platinum blonde. 

Jongdae gasps and chokes on his Butterbeer.

Beside him, Baekhyun snorts into his drink as Chanyeol laughs loudly and thumps him on the back. Across from him, Kyungsoo looks amused, despite having protested the trip to the pub in the first place. 

“ _Fuck me_ ,” is the first thing out of his mouth after he recovers. 

It’s at this moment that Junmyeon sees him, looking over the crowds of the bar to where his friends are laughing loudly, and locks eyes with him. Jongdae feels his stomach twist and chest tighten and he’s lost for words. Again. Junmyeon looks ethereal, like some sort of holy being, and Jongdae has Butterbeer dribbling down his face. 

Junmyeon sends him a soft, amused smile and a small wave before his friends drag him away towards a table further into the room. Jongdae turns back to his friends, wiping his mouth and blaming the heat in his face on the warmth of the room and the Butterbeer in his hands. 

“So,” Chanyeol says, eyes twinkling as he smirks, “You’ve got a thing for blonds, huh?”

 

 

“You saw that, right? Please tell me we all saw that,” Jongdae asks later as they’re trekking back to Hogwarts, hands shoved deep in his coat pockets. 

“Yes, Jongdae.” Kyungsoo puffs, “We all saw it.”

“He’s _blond_. Who does he think he is? Does he think this is a game?” 

“Word is some Slytherins got into the prefect bathroom last night and left hair dye lying around the sinks, but the head-boy had broken it up,” Baekhyun dodges a ball of snow that Chanyeol ditches at him, before turning to look at Jongdae, smug, “Looks like Mister Goody Two Shoes did more than just break it up.”

“How do you even know this?” Jongdae asks. 

“I don’t kiss and tell,” is all Baekhyun says in reply, blowing a kiss at him before bending over to snatch up some snow of his own. Obtained via extendable ear or otherwise, Baekhyun is notorious for gossip among them, and it always surprises Jongdae just how quickly it gets around to him.

“So what now?” Chanyeol asks, “Did you want us to go back so you can choke on beer again?” 

“Hey,” Jongdae protests, flushing. “If Im Yoona walked in with blonde hair you’d do more than just choke.”

“Yeah, but Im Yoona is a _goddess_. Everyone in the pub would fall to their knees. You, on the other hand,” Chanyeol then clutches his throat and proceeds to make strangled noises in what Jongdae thinks is a very poor imitation of him. 

“Ah, whatever, whatever,” He whines, huffing when Baekhyun joins in, “I’m coming up with a plan for this and I’m _not_ going to choke this time.”

“How many plans do you need?” Kyungsoo asks, chin buried in his scarf. “You’ve been planning for ages.”

“Yeah,” Chanyeol says, eyeing the ball of snow Baekhyun is shaping in his hands as he bends to pick up more for himself. “Out of ideas? Want some help? I’m the king of romance, you know.” 

Scoffing, Jongdae lets out a laugh. Beside him, Kyungsoo snorts.

“Don’t listen to him Jongdae,” Baekhyun says, laughing as he ditches the snowball and it hits the side of Chanyeol’s head. “This guy couldn’t do romance even if his life depended on it. My way would be the best _and_ the fastest, so we can get you hitched and happy and on your way and can stop your whining all in one. It’s win-win!”

“No way, I am the best!” Chanyeol exclaims, shaking snow from his hair. “Jongdae, pick me. It’ll be fun, man, I’ve already got an idea and everything. It’ll be so cool and it’ll work so well, you won’t regret it!” 

Crouching to collect some snow, Jongdae thinks for a few seconds before nodding, “Alright, Chanyeol.”

“What?!” Baekhyun cries as Chanyeol cheers and lumbers over, pulling Jongdae into a bro-hug. “What’s wrong with my idea?”

“Last time I went with one of your ideas, you nearly broke my nose with a bludger.”

“You—“ Baekhyun cuts off, ducking to dodge the snowball Chanyeol flings at him, “You are never gonna let that go are you? Whatever, that’s fine! I have quidditch tomorrow so I don’t have time to help you anyway.” He pauses, bitter, before adding, “You know he’s probably just going to slam your heads together, right? Like magic! Romance complete!”

“I will not—“

“Yeah, Chanyeol, you can’t do that.” Jongdae says, balling the snow in his hands, “He wears glasses sometimes and it’d be bad.”

“Who? Me?”

“Yeah, you, Chanyeol. No, idiot. Junmyeon hyung.”

“Oh. And?”

“And you could break them? They look good. And expensive.”

“Okay, sure.” 

“Hey,” Baekhyun pipes up, “You know glasses are a kink, right?”

Jongdae scoffs, “Glasses aren’t a kink.”

“Are too!” Chanyeol adds. 

“They aren’t! You wear glasses and I’m not attracted to you. You’re gangly and the glasses don’t change that.”

“ _They look good_ ,” Baekhyun mimics, “But do they turn you on?”

“What? I—“

“You know,” Chanyeol states, “He’s so straight-laced but I bet Junmyeon hyung’s kinky as heck.”

“Hey, Jongdae,” Grinning, Baekhyun slings an arm around his shoulder, “You know what your solution is? Some student-teacher role play. Give him an apple and then, like, bend over—“

Beside them, Kyungsoo makes a disgusted noise and hits Baekhyun in the face with a snowball Jongdae hadn’t seen him make. Jongdae takes advantage of his best friend’s shock to hit him with a handful of his own. 

Shoving Baekhyun away, he turns to Chanyeol, smiling. “It’s all on you, Chanyeol.” 

Chanyeol pauses from where he’s creeping towards Kyungsoo with a snowball to flash him a grin and a thumbs up. Jongdae hopes that after what he’s attempting to do right now, his friend is still alive to help him.

 

 

Chanyeol’s idea turns out to be recruiting what seems like an army of first years to dance in the halls while Jongdae sings. He’d, once again, seen this in a muggle movie and thought it would be a good idea. 

“Super romantic,” he says, slapping Jongdae on the shoulder as he grins at the cluster of first years before them. “Junmyeon’s tacky, he’ll love it.”

“Yeah,” Jongdae replies. Chanyeol’s right. Junmyeon is sweet and cheesy and likes corny jokes. But that’s the only thing Chanyeol is right about. Jongdae has no idea how they’re going to teach first years to dance in sync when neither he nor Chanyeol can dance in the first place, and Jongdae hasn’t the slightest idea how Chanyeol even plans on getting music loud enough for this endeavor.

He doubts Junmyeon is going to approve of them dragging handfuls of first years from their study periods and putting them to work for candy and tips on how to be the next Park Rocket. And he doubts that Junmyeon or any of the teachers will appreciate them blocking off entire halls of the campus so Jongdae can confess in public via bad love songs that he’s not sure either Chanyeol nor Junmyeon know. Jongdae is a half blood raised on 80s music and Junmyeon, well, had his pureblood wizard beats to jam to. 

Chanyeol shoves a roll of parchment into his hands and shoves him off to the side, “Go look over the plans while I teach.” 

Jongdae ends up on a bench beside a terrified looking first year, a Hufflepuff named Jongup, who Jongdae finds out has been dragged along by his more enthusiastic friends. He finds out the boy isn’t so much scared of Chanyeol but of his flying class next period so, being the upstanding upperclassman he was, Jongdae takes it upon himself to fix it. 

It’s at this moment that Junmyeon appears, interrupting Jongdae’s attempts at comfort and dazzling him right out of his words. He’s not meant to be here; he’s not meant to find out about this _now_. Decked out in his usual Slytherin robes, yet still bundled in two scarves, he looks like the cutest thing to grace the earth.

Jongup, however, seems to think differently. He takes one look at the head-boy and freaks.

Moments later, Jongdae can only stare, horrified and speechless and burning with embarrassment, at Junmyeon, who looks very, very dignified given the situation. Given the fact that he’s covered with throw up, chunks dripping from his cute scarves, from his robes, and all over his very nice leather shoes. 

Beside them both, poor Jongup looks ready to cry. Jongdae understands. He really, really does. Junmyeon’s timing was really, really the worst. Ten seconds earlier and Jongdae wouldn’t have given Jongup the purple half of the Puking Pastille to get out of flying, and ten seconds later would’ve given Jongdae time to explain how to use it. Instead, Jongup got half and no explanation and is now on the verge of tears and Jongdae feels awful. 

Swallowing, Junmyeon raises his head and offers Jongup a soft, shaky smile because he’s an absolute angel, “It’s okay.” 

Jongup doesn’t answer him and Jongdae doesn’t blame him. Junmyeon is obviously trying his hardest to stay put together and casual for Jongup’s sake, but Jongdae can see the burning embarrassment on his cheeks and the way he is so desperately trying to suppress a grimace. Some of Chanyeol’s first year army have start noticing, jeering and yelling and laughing and Jongdae feels genuinely, sincerely awful. He wants to do nothing more than the floor to swallow him up and drag him right down to hell where he belongs.

Instead, he tries to explain himself as Junmyeon pulls out his wand in resignation and removes the throw up from himself and the floor with a few words and a simple wave of his wand. “I—I—“

“Jongdae.”

“I’m sorry.”

Looking good as new, Junmyeon purses his lips and fixes Jongdae with a weighted stare. There’s something in his expression that seems as though he has a long list of things to say but won’t. Disappointment pulls at the corner of his mouth and Jongdae bows his head, apologetic. In the end, Junmyeon just sighs and says, “…Fifty points from Gryffindor.”

Withering, Jongdae watches the man of his dreams turn on his heel and stride down the hall, telling Chanyeol to keep it civil and quiet as he passes. Jongdae is left staring after him, heart sinking. Beside him, Jongup bursts into tears. 

 

 

“My life is over,” he concludes that night, lying on one of the common room couches.

Earlier when they’d gotten back from ‘training’, Chanyeol had blabbed the entire thing to Baekhyun, who had absolutely lost it laughing. Kyungsoo hadn’t even tried to hide his chuckle either, leaving Jongdae to wonder how he’d ended up with such traitorous best friends.

“I dunno,” Chanyeol says, a bright smile on his face. “I think it went pretty well. The first years were really good and it could definitely work.”

“Were we in the same place? Chanyeol, that kid threw up over the love of my life. I think it went awful.”

“It’ll be better tomorrow.“

“No way, no more first years, no more dancing.”

“What? Why not?”

“I’m rejecting your help,” he says. Chanyeol looks morally offended as Jongdae sits up and turns to Kyungsoo. “Help me?”

Kyungsoo hardly bats an eye, “Just talk to him.”

“No way!” Chanyeol cries, spurned, “That’s so boring! He’s had years to do that. The only way we do that is if we get him drunk. I know Baekhyun’s got some booze stashed upstairs from his brother. Maybe we could pop open one of those—“

“ _No_ , no,” Baekhyun interrupts, looking up from where he’s studying the quidditch section of the Prophet. “We are not breaking out the booze for Jongdae’s lovesick woes. That is celebratory alcohol and will be used if, and only if, there is something to celebrate.”

“I am not _lovesick_ ,” he protests. When he glances around for support and it’s obvious that not one of them believe him in the slightest.

“Dude,” Baekhyun turns to look at him, his expression frustrated, “You have been pining over Junmyeon for literally years. _Years_. Plural. You gape at him, you lose your words, you think about him, dream about him—“

“Probably jerks off to him too,” adds Chanyeol, proud.

“God, definitely. And, _and_ you literally _do not shut up_ about him. Honestly. So just fucking, I don’t know! Dance in the halls like Chanyeol said, or listen to Kyungsoo and just talk to him—I don’t care! Just please, _please_ stop whining about him.” 

“Didn’t you say you wanted to help? Like, two days ago?” Jongdae asks, frowning at him. “You yelling at me isn’t helping.”

“Look, I have other stuff to worry about,” he snaps, indicating to papers on the table. After a deep breath, he continues, calmer, “We were fucking destroyed by Slytherin on the weekend so we need to come up with new strategies. You’ve got Kyungsoo and Chanyeol helping you, you’re fine.”

“Seriously Baek,” Jongdae whines, “I’m sorry. Just tell me what your idea was, I want to know. I want your help.”

Chanyeol nods in agreement, “Yeah, man. You said it was better than mine and I need to know if it actually was. Like, I doubt it but honestly—“

“So what? Jongdae said he didn’t want my help—“

“And now I’m saying I do. I just said I did, so please just tell me—“

“Dude, just help out, it’s not that big of a deal—“

“No, seriously, just— I don’t have time to mess around—“

“Please, it needs to be good, I need to impress him. Just five minutes, please—“

“No—“

“You’ve got forever until quidditch, man, it’s not that important right now, _this_ is important right now—“

“You know what, _fine_.” Baekhyun snaps suddenly, standing up from his chair. In three steps he’s across the room and within distance of Jongdae. 

“Thank you so much, I’m so—“ Jongdae feels the words catch in his throat, his sentence cutting off into a small, strangled cough. Opening his mouth again, he tries to continue only to find that nothing happens. It’s only when he looks at Baekhyun properly, red in the face and looking vindictive and smug, wand pointing directly at him, does he realize what’s happened.

His best friend may be a smart mouthed little shit in ninety percent of their classes, but Baekhyun is one of the best charms students in their year. One of the best students at certain spells such as the silencing charm, something which Jongdae had recently seen him practicing on frogs and birds around the grounds during their lunch breaks, and knows will be on their next test.

Jongdae also likes to think that Baekhyun honestly has his back but right now he isn’t sure anymore. All he knows, as Jongdae springs off the armchair and vaults the large couch towards Baekhyun, Chanyeol laughing as he does, is that Baekhyun is the devil and can’t be trusted. 

“You said you wanted my help,” Baekhyun says, pocketing his wand and looking too proud for his own good. All Jongdae wants to smack the smug look off his face. “This is me helping.”

_What the fuck_ , Jongdae says inaudibly. He wishes he could yell at him. _What the fuck did you just do? How is this helping? Fix it. Fix it, fix it, fix it_ , he commands silently, managing to grab Baekhyun by the front of his robe and thump his fists on the boy’s chest none to gently before Chanyeol reaches him. 

“I’m so sick of your Junmyeon shit!” His now ex-best friend cries, trying to bat Jongdae’s hands away. “You constantly whining about it but not doing a thing about it. It’s driving me nuts! We all have other stuff to worry about,” Folding his arms, Baekhyun sniffs and adds, “And quidditch _is_ important.” 

_This is all because he said quidditch wasn’t important?!_ Furious, Jongdae shakes his best friend. Baekhyun’s smug expression doesn’t shift from his face, even as Jongdae twists his hands in his collar and shakes him again. 

“Jongdae, man, just walk it off,” Chanyeol says, not even trying to smother his laughter. He’s got his long arms between them, trying to keep his two best friends from tearing each other to pieces. “It’ll just wear off right?”

“That’s not gonna happen,” says Baekhyun, and Jongdae lets out a silent yell of frustration. “I’m going to recast is every single night, Jongdae, until you fucking tell Junmyeon how you feel. You’ve been wanting a way to do it, so here is your solution!”

_No, it’s not!_ Jongdae tries to yell at him, throat tight. Between them, Chanyeol is still laughing. He sees Baekhyun glance at him, before looking back to Jongdae, proud. If Jongdae wasn’t so caught up in trying to fix his own situation, he’d shove Chanyeol from the room. Baekhyun does not need encouragement. 

“How is this meant to help anything?” Kyungsoo asks, once again the voice of reason. He’s now standing off to the side, seemingly ready to pull them apart if someone starts throwing legitimate punches. “Jongdae’s meant to be confessing via words, Baekhyun, not through mime.”

“Well,” Baekhyun starts, huffing as he tries to shove Jongdae off him, “Well now he can just, I don’t know, kiss him!” When Jongdae blanches, Baekhyun manages to pull away, puffing and rubbing at his neck. He looks put out and annoyed as he continues, “Yeah, that’s what I’ll do. I won’t take it off until you kiss him.” 

Flushing at the idea, Jongdae looks at Baekhyun, affronted, and shakes his head furiously. This isn’t fair. He’s being cornered and forced into embarrassing himself yet again and he doesn’t need this. Junmyeon doesn’t deserve this. 

“Well tough luck. It’s either that or you can beg me to take it off. Get on your knees and kiss my feet for all the stress you’ve caused me.” 

Jongdae pulls a face and stares at him, incredulously. There is no way in fresh hell he’s going to put his mouth anywhere near Baekhyun’s disgusting feet. He’s got more pride than that. And, in a choice between kissing Baekhyun’s gross feet and kissing Junmyeon, the latter will always sound better in any situation. 

Baekhyun notices his expression and smirks, “Then deal with it. Fucking kiss the boy, Jongdae. Go on.”

 

 

Jongdae doesn’t speak with Baekhyun for three days. It’s not as though he really has a choice in the matter, but he makes his silent treatment obvious. The decision to avoid each other seems pretty mutual, until Baekhyun corners him on the first night in the common room and pinches him until he lets out a silent cry of pain to see if the charm’s still working. When Jongdae tries to smother him with a cushion afterwards, one of the house prefects, Yuri, intervenes and forces them to either side of the room. 

During breakfasts he drags Kyungsoo with him to the Hufflepuff table, where Sunyoung moves aside to fit them in without question. Mistaking his silence for something being wrong, she slips him the last Danish pastry with a small, reassuring smile and Jongdae feels his heart clench. He doesn’t deserve her pity Danishes. 

In Potions, Jongdae once again commandeers Kyungsoo, steering him away from their usual spot near the back to an empty table towards the front. Baekhyun is left alone on their normal desk, huffing as Jongdae turns and sticks his tongue out at him. If Kyungsoo has any objections to being dragged around, he doesn’t voice it and Jongdae is glad for it. 

Jongdae likes Kyungsoo. Jongdae and Baekhyun might have clicked immediately, but Kyungsoo is sensible. He’s calm and level headed and funny but not over the top. Unlike Baekhyun, Kyungsoo doesn’t meddle and doesn’t throw spells at his best friend under the guise of helping. Kyungsoo is reliable and polite and keeps to himself. Kyungsoo also shares his book with him when Jongdae forgets his and tries not to make it so obvious that he looks ridiculous but obvious enough that Kyungsoo will notice. And Kyungsoo always does.

He spends the entirety of the class frowning at the tiny messy Baekhyun he’d scribbled on his parchment. The mouth is curved into a crooked, ugly smile and instead of Baekhyun’s pretty fingers, scribble Baekhyun is equipped with claws. Jongdae hopes his best friend knows that he’s being vandalized right now but, with a cursory glance over his shoulder, it seems that Baekhyun hardly cares at all despite the fact that he’s ruined Jongdae’s chance at a happy ending and successful life with his dream man and several cats.

He’s too busy fuming to notice that he’s being called upon until Kyungsoo kicks him under the table. 

“Mister Kim,” Professor Lee says, unimpressed. “Answer the question.”

Jongdae blanches. He looks up at the professor, then to the book in front of him, then back up to the professor, clueless. A few rows behind him, he hears the signature sound of Baekhyun choking back a snicker. Mentally, he adds another strike to his growing Byun Baekhyun shit list.

“Murtlap tentacle,” Kyungsoo cuts in, saving his ass. “You cut the growth from the back and chop it up before adding and heating.”

Professor Lee looks between them, unimpressed gaze eventually settling on Jongdae. “Correct, Mister Do. Thank you,” he says finally, turning and heading back to the steaming cauldron at the front.

Jongdae breathes a sigh of relief and sends a grateful look to Kyungsoo, giving his hand an appreciative squeeze under the table. Kyungsoo merely nods and pulls his hand away before turning back to the lesson. He makes a note to pay Kyungsoo back. Adds it to his list after number one: sweeping Junmyeon off his feet, and number two: tossing Baekhyun to the giant squid in the lake. Kyungsoo deserves something for being a pal. His true best friend.

Class ends without further incident, which is a miracle in and of itself. He and Baekhyun are hardly the teacher’s favorite on a good day, so it’s amazing he wasn’t picked on again after flubbing the first question. 

“You can just tell a teacher, you know.” 

When Jongdae looks up, Kyungsoo is still beside him, books collected neatly and watching him with a level stare. Jongdae cocks his head curiously and raises an eyebrow at him.

“The silencing charm. If you told a teacher, they could probably get rid of it for you. If you’re caught not being able to speak it’ll be suspicious and you could get in trouble.” There’s something soft about the way he looks at him, and Jongdae once again feels thankful to have Kyungsoo on his side in this. “Just tell them that Baekhyun was practicing for the test and it hit you instead.”

Before Jongdae can consider it in the slightest, Baekhyun appears from behind Kyungsoo, slinging an arm over his small shoulder. Kyungsoo shifts slightly, looking put out.

“What are we whispering about?” Baekhyun says, looking between them with a cheeky smile. “Not thinking of undoing my help are we?”

Jongdae pouts, glaring at him. Baekhyun pulls a face back as Kyungsoo shoves his arm off. “Just think about it, Jongdae,” he says, fixing him with a soft look. When Jongdae mouths a thank you to him, he smiles. “See you later.”

“Yeah,” echoes Baekhyun, “See you later.”

There’s nothing reassuring about Baekhyun’s smile or the malicious glint in his eye. Within moments, Baekhyun latches onto Kyungsoo’s arm and drags him from the room, sweeping Jongdae’s books onto the floor in the process. His laugh carries as Jongdae sighs in frustration and drops to the floor to collect his things. 

Fucking Baekhyun. Trust him to make life harder than it already is. Exhaling in exasperation, Jongdae is midway through shoving his papers back into his already messy book when someone bends down to help him. 

“Let me help,” they say, and Jongdae looks up to see Junmyeon collecting his potions text book and quills. His frustration at Baekhyun stutters and he feels his face heat with embarrassment. Of course. _Of course_ this would happen. No doubt Baekhyun had seen Junmyeon in the hall waiting for his class and had taken it upon himself to help once again.

“Here,” Junmyeon says, a soft smile on his face as he holds Jongdae’s book out to him. He looks as beautiful as usual, and is looking at Jongdae as though the vomit pastille incident didn’t happen at all. 

Jongdae’s heart twists. He takes the book back, making an attempt to smile gratefully at the head-boy. How Junmyeon could possibly be a Slytherin is beyond him, especially when he so willingly offers help and smiles and looks at him like _that_. He’s warm. The same warm as Sunyoung and her Hufflepuff friends, and Jongdae thinks he’d be much more suited to that. He wants to thank Junmyeon but it dies in his throat. 

Instead, Baekhyun’s words echo in his head. _Kiss the boy._ That’s all he has to do. And he could do it. Right here, he could just forgo a thank you all together and lean in and kiss the heck out of the head-boy, but that wouldn’t be appropriate. Not in return for a book. Not out of the blue. Not when there’s a teacher standing meters away preparing for the next class. Not without consent.

“Are you alright?” 

Junmyeon is still looking at him, concern pulling at the corners of his mouth. Immediately, Jongdae schools his face and nods furiously. Forcing a smile, he continues nodding as he skirts around Junmyeon towards the door. Junmyeon offers hesitant smile of his own, confusion quirking at the corner of his mouth, as Jongdae waves at him, still smiling, before leaving the room behind.

“So,” someone says as soon as he’s out the door, startling him. Baekhyun is leaning against the wall outside the classroom, both eyebrows raised inquisitively. “Did you kiss him?” He asks, sidling up to him, a mischievous, eager smirk on his lips.

Jongdae scowls and shoves him away, face still burning. _That wasn’t cool_ , he wants to whine at him. _Give me my voice back so I can do it properly._

“I’ll take that as a no then,” Baekhyun replies, before throwing an arm over his shoulder. “Don’t worry, you’ll get there. Or, if you’re feeling peckish…” he trails off, wiggling his eyebrows and pointing towards his feet. Jongdae hits him.

 

 

The inability to speak combined with the looming threat of Baekhyun’s feet is enough for Jongdae to try harder. 

He manages to catch Junmyeon’s eye during dinner and wings it, managing to smile and wink at him from across the room. Junmyeon squints and mouths _‘what’_ at him, so Jongdae tries again, exaggerating his wink and making finger pistols at him. This time, Junmyeon seems to get the picture, stiffening as his face heats up. Jongdae feels proud of himself until he leans forward, trying to be cool, and puts his elbow in his mashed potatoes. 

They run into each other the next day, while Junmyeon is surrounded by his Slytherin friends. He greets Jongdae politely, and Jongdae can only mime back in response, trying not to look ridiculous or give away the fact that he has no voice. Behind Junmyeon, one of his Slytherin friends, Kyuhyun, smirks, winks, and cocks the same finger pistols Jongdae had done yesterday. Jongdae’s face heats up and he’s out of there before Junmyeon can say another word, too embarrassed to continue.

The rest of the week is spent in a strange game of cat and mouse, with Junmyeon slowly becoming more and more suspicious. He corners Jongdae to say hello or to ask about his day or how he’s going in potions, and Jongdae can only gesture and smile and get the hell out before he makes any more of a fool of himself. He knows he’s acting weird, but it’s not the right moment. The whole voiceless thing is driving him up the fucking wall but he’s going to retain some sort of pride. He has to. He just needs to catch Junmyeon alone, then he’ll do something.

He manages to avoid Junmyeon until he’s out in Hogsmeade with Chanyeol, looking through Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes. Chanyeol’s several levels up, searching for the new latest and greatest thing to pull, while Jongdae scours the lower floors. 

He passes the Wonderwitch section on his way towards the Muggle Magic and hesitates. The love potion stand is large and pink and spiraling in the middle of the section, filled completely with pink bottles of different shades and sizes. The entire area smells like clean linen and fresh bread and something soft yet sharp, and he swallows. This isn’t the way to do it, he tells himself as he turns away. If Junmyeon doesn’t want to kiss him he’s not going to force him, it’s not right. 

The Muggle Magic section is a safe distraction. It looks like the joke shops back home in his little town, the packs of cards looking like the decks his brother, Jongdeok, used to bring home to mess around with. Despite being a half-blood, the only magic he properly grew up on was this; the fake kind. 

He rounds the corner, wondering if they have the fake wands also, when he sees Junmyeon. Alone. The head-boy is, like usual, rugged up in at least two scarves, nose buried in one of them, and Jongdae wonders what he could possibly be doing in a practical joke shops. Then Junmyeon sees him and Jongdae doesn’t get a chance to plan properly.

“Hey, Jongdae,” he says, eyes smiling. The butterflies in his stomach start up as Junmyeon walks over, holding something out to him. “Have you seen these before? Do you know what they do?” 

Magic coins, Jongdae notes as he takes it from him silently. He’s done this before as a kid. Muggle magic is something he and his brother used to do together all the time, before they found out about actual wizardry. Maybe, he thinks, risking a glance at Junmyeon, maybe this could be it.

He can feel Junmyeon watching him intently as he places both coins in one hand and closes them in. He turns it over and waves his hands a bit, aiming for slightly dramatic. Junmyeon laughs at his expression and Jongdae can feel himself smiling. He opens them back up slowly. One of the coins has disappeared, leaving only one behind. 

“Whoa,” Junmyeon’s eyes widen in awe. He takes Jongdae’s hands and flips it over, searching for the other coin. The contact is warm, tingling against Jongdae’s skin, and he can feel the heat rushing to his face. It doesn’t seem to bother Junmyeon, who is pulling at his sleeves to see if the missing coin falls out of them. “How did you do that?”

_A magician never reveals his secrets_ , is what he would say normally, as per tradition, but he’s suddenly hit with the smell of something sharp and soft. Junmyeon is in his space and right close beside him, searching for the missing coin, and all Jongdae can think about is how Junmyeon is the final scent of the love potion. 

Biting his lip, Jongdae takes a deep breath. Junmyeon is gorgeous and lovely on any given day and where normally Jongdae curses himself for babbling in front of him, right now all he’s cursing is the inability to say anything. How the hell is he meant to do anything without words? He can’t accost Junmyeon in the middle of a joke shop without any sort of confession or returned feelings. He wants to yell and whine and drop to his knees with frustration. _”Helping,”_ Baekhyun had said. _”This isn’t helping!”_ he wants to yell back. This isn’t how he wants to do this.

“Hey, Jongdae,” Junmyeon says suddenly, breaking the silence. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Jongdae looks at him, ready to disprove it, but Junmyeon continues before he can do anything. “Normally you’re as loud as anything, and it’s a struggle getting you to stop talking but you haven’t said a thing at all recently. And you’re acting a bit strange too. You know I’m not mad about that thing, right—“

“Jongdae!” Chanyeol calls suddenly, deep voice rumbling as he rounds the corner. Immediately, Junmyeon straightens and puts a few steps distance between them. Jongdae, feeling helpless and apologetic and frustrated with his best friend, withers. “Soojung said she saw you head through here—oh, hey hyung.”

“Chanyeol,” Junmyeon greets, fixing Chanyeol with a small smile. “I shouldn’t be worried about you being in here should I?” 

Chanyeol snorts and breaks into a large grin. “Not at all!” he says, slinging an arm over Jongdae’s shoulder. “The only one you’ve gotta be worried about is Jongdae here. He’s the sly one. We may be Gryffindors but he’s really one to _slither in_ , if you know what I mean.” 

In front of them, Junmyeon flushes a deep red, looking very shocked and uncomfortable, and Jongdae wants to die. Forcing a smile, he turns and shoves Chanyeol none too gently from the store before he makes things worse. He doesn’t need things to be any more difficult for him right now. Neither Baekhyun nor Chanyeol can be trusted.

 

 

By Tuesday night Jongdae’s considering conceding defeat. Baekhyun’s feet might not be the nicest thing, but they’re better than having to suffer through another potions lesson on Amortentia when all Jongdae can think about is Junmyeon and how being partners with Kyungsoo means success which means smelling Junmyeon’s scent every single lesson. He’s going mad. 

He misses his voice. He misses not being able to sing in the morning or in the showers or in the halls or whenever the hell he feels like. He misses not being able to join in with everyone’s laughter and he misses not being able to fling witty things back at people. He misses not being able to ramble his way through a conversation with Junmyeon, because then at least he’d be talking and at least Junmyeon wouldn’t be worried about having done something wrong. 

After getting his over initial annoyed outburst, Baekhyun’s having too much fun with this whole thing while Jongdae suffers in silence. Jongdae has been lying face down on the floor in the common room for almost an hour since he was shoved from the couch by Chanyeol, and every so often Baekhyun slides his gross toes in his direction, as a grim reminder of the cost of defeat. 

“What if he cleaned them first?” Chanyeol says, “Would you kiss his feet then?”

“No way, he’s gotta kiss them like this.” Baekhyun responds immediately as Jongdae huffs into the carpet.

From the single armchair, Kyungsoo speaks up, “Didn’t you say he just had to beg you?”

“Yeah, but how’s he meant to do that without a voice?” 

Baekhyun’s foot slides close to Jongdae again so he snatches his ankle. His best friend yelps in surprise, dragged off the couch as Jongdae pulls. He’s had enough of this nonsense. They end up on the floor, wrestling a bit until Jongdae ends up seated on top.

Baekhyun shifts, uncomfortable, and scrunches his face at him, “You can’t lick my feet like that.” Jongdae pulls his ear and he yells out in pain before continuing, “Look, this is for your own good! You wanted help, so I’m helping you. Chanyeol’s help sucked and so you got stuck with me! Deal—ah, _ouch_ —deal with it!”

“What about me?” Kyungsoo asks.

From beneath Jongdae, Baekhyun strains his neck to look at Kyungsoo. “What about you? You can’t help with this. You’re not romantic at all, you’d ruin it.”

Jongdae looks down at his best friend, vindictive and incredulous. He definitely wouldn’t pin Kyungsoo for a romantic person, but he doubts that he’d ruin it, especially considering the stunt Baekhyun had already pulled. Looking back up, he offers Kyungsoo a small smile and nods at him, silently asking for help. 

“Yeah, Soo,” Chanyeol adds, “What are you gonna do that the masters of romance couldn’t think of?”

 

 

A letter. 

Jongdae feels like an idiot. Had felt like an idiot as soon as Kyungsoo had pulled out some parchment and a quill and sat him down and told him to write out his feelings. Still feels like an idiot now, freezing his ass off in the library in the middle of the night where he knows Junmyeon’s prefect shift should take him. 

He can’t believe he’d completely overlooked the idea of writing out a confession. It should’ve come before Chanyeol’s ridiculous idea to bribe first years to dance, and Baekhyun using him for charm practice. Why they never listen to Kyungsoo, who is obviously the only smart one among them, is beyond him. 

The letter is folded neatly in his hands, signed _To Junmyeon hyung_ on his insistence in case something happened to it somehow on the way, and just the sight of it makes him feel sick with nerves. He’s seen these letter confessions play out badly all the time on his television back home. Dreads the idea of Junmyeon rejecting him but at least, knowing Junmyeon, it would be a soft let down at least. Maybe. 

He’s been there for twenty minutes by the time Junmyeon finds him, nodding off in the corner of the history section. It’s the section notorious for midnight make out sessions, so Jongdae knows it’s a section that the prefects always make a habit of checking. 

Junmyeon seems surprised when he sees him, before his face falls into something akin to unease. 

“Jongdae,” he says in his serious prefect voice, but there’s an edge of something else to it. He sounds tired. “What are you doing here?” 

Taking a deep breath, Jongdae shifts over on the chair he’d been sitting on and pats the space beside him. Junmyeon blinks at him, eyebrows raised. 

“I’m on duty. You shouldn’t be here either.”

He offers the head-boy a small smile, but doesn’t move. The letter in his hands feels like it’s burning and he’s torn between tearing it up and throwing it at him. He just wants to get rid of it. Resolute, he keeps his gaze on Junmyeon until the Slytherin caves with a sigh and sits beside him.

“What is it?” he asks, looking at him closely. Junmyeon’s warm, pressed against his side. It sends shivers through him as the cold works its way from his bones. “Why are we sitting in the library in the middle of the night?” When Jongdae doesn’t move, Junmyeon reaches over and squeezes his wrist. Lips twisting, he continues, “Are you sure you’re alright?”

Jongdae takes another deep breath and pulls the letter from between his closed fists. Junmyeon’s eyes shift to it immediately, looking between it and Jongdae when it’s offered to him. 

In the dim lighting, a range of expressions flicker across his face before he takes his tentatively, eyes wide, “This…this isn’t a howler, right?” 

Smile pulling across his face, Jongdae scoffs and shakes his head gently. He needs Junmyeon to trust him. _Please_ , Jongdae wills, pushing the letter towards him, _please go well._ Junmyeon takes it from him completely, giving him one last curious look before flipping it open. 

Junmyeon reads it in complete silence. His soft breathing and the loud beating of Jongdae’s own heart at the only things filling the quiet. Fidgeting nervously, Jongdae plays with his fingers in his lap and tries not to think about how this could go. How Junmyeon could just return the letter and apologize and tell him to stop being ridiculous and go to bed. How Baekhyun might still try and make him go through with the deal even while dealing with the ache of rejection. How after three years of pranks and pining from the sidelines and trying to work up to the courage to do something, it could all come crumbling down at this moment. 

Jongdae is perched on the edge of a slope in a position he would rather not be in. This would be so much easier if he could just _talk_. The position they’re in right now is exactly like the one two years ago, sitting beside each other with hot chocolates as they talked about family and friends and the future. If he were to tell his past self about this situation right now, about his feelings and about all the things he’d do differently, little fourth year Jongdae would probably laugh at him. 

He just wants things to turn out right. He hopes this is right.

He doesn’t know how long it’s been when Junmyeon finally shifts, folding the letter quietly and letting out a soft exhale. The letter hadn’t been that long. How many times had he read it over before moving? This can’t be good, right? This isn’t a good sign—

Junmyeon turns to him, and Jongdae looks up. His expression is soft and glowing in the warm light of the library, and Jongdae feels something tug at his chest. Junmyeon is beautiful and Jongdae is bursting with words that cannot be said. Words that he couldn’t fit in the letter but has longed to say for years.

He waits patiently for Junmyeon to do something—to get up and leave, to hand the letter back, to deduct points for being ridiculous, _anything_ —instead he simply nods and says, “Okay.” 

His heart stutters for a moment, leaping and twisting, but he’s too confused to do anything. _What?_ he mouths, eyebrows furrowing. 

He doesn’t know what okay could possibly mean until Junmyeon reaches out carefully, his fingers brushing along his cheek. The Slytherin watches him silently, expression soft as Jongdae’s mind suddenly catches up with him. He tries to catch the smile pulling at his lips but fails, and instead leans closer, pausing as their noses brush. Junmyeon’s breath is hot on his lips and his hand is gentle at the back of his neck, and Jongdae can’t help but wonder what people would think about the head-boy being caught in the make out section of the library—

And then Junmyeon leans up and their lips meet. The kiss is shy and soft and, as Jongdae’s fingers move to tangle themselves in his blonde hair, he finds that the head-boy’s hair is much the same, much like Jongdae imagined it would be. Junmyeon’s other hand has come up to rest against Jongdae’s chest, the edge of the confession letter scratching against the bottom of his chin. 

Junmyeon pulls away first. His cheeks are flushed and his perfect hair is slightly skewed, but he looks as beautiful as ever. The expression on his face is warm, a bashful smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. 

“I like you too,” he says, before adding. “Even if you do make my job difficult.”

He takes Jongdae’s hand and gives it a squeeze. Jongdae feels giddy. 

This, Jongdae thinks as Junmyeon pulls away with a soft smile, this is right. 

 

 

_To Junmyeon hyung,_

_Hello! It’s Jongdae!! ヽ(　･∀･)ﾉ_  
You’re probably surprised about this letter, right?  
It’s not a distraction, I promise. Please don’t be worried!  
Although I fool around and prank a lot, it’s actually quite enjoyable because I get to see you! I regret all the stress I’ve caused you though. I’m really sorry!! (For the vomit especially, I’m really, really sorry.)  
But this letter isn’t an apology.  
Actually it’s… it’s a confession!!  
That day in third year do you remember? You didn’t just break my arm; you also stole my heart.  
I really like you Junmyeon hyung. I’m so thankful for you. Thank you for breaking my arm, and thank you for doing such a good job as head boy and being such a good person.  
Please accept my heart  <3 

_Ps, Baekhyun stole my voice because I wouldn’t confess. But now that I have, can you please kiss it better?_


End file.
